


With Any Luck

by ryanhasao3



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Roy Mustang, Drunk Roy Mustang, Edward Elric Swears, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Gay Edward Elric, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Military Homophobia, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Protective Alphonse Elric, Protective Riza Hawkeye, Romantic Fluff, Roy Mustang Swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanhasao3/pseuds/ryanhasao3
Summary: It started off with little side glances. The first few times it was bigger things he couldn’t believe he’d never seen before. After a while, Ed started to pick up on smaller facts. Eventually, he decided to face it. Roy Mustang was in love with him. He just had to get the bastard to admit it.





	With Any Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Content/Trigger Warning: There is internalised self-directed homophobia and references/implications to past alcohol addiction, both from Roy’s perspective. Both are only minor, the latter barely mentioned, but please be careful reading if this will affect you.
> 
> Fluffy, sweet ending, I promise! I love making them suffer but I always make it better in the end. At least, I do in the fics I publish. The others I delete and cry about on my own.
> 
> Minor canon alteration where the connection between Roy and Madame Christmas is more commonly known.
> 
> I would add other tags but it would spoil the ending so I won’t. Enjoy!

It started off with little side glances, flicks of the gaze out of the corners of his eyes when his attention was fixated on some new detail he'd noticed. The first few times it was bigger things he couldn't believe he'd never seen before - the way the ends of his hair curled a little after drying from exposure to the rain, hesitations on the way out the door where the older man stopped to look back. After a while, Ed started to pick up on smaller facts. The tiny hitch of his breath and the sudden rise of his broad shoulders when Ed looked in his direction. The quick blink when his name was mentioned.

Eventually, after noticing the older man watching him for the seventh time that day, he decided he had to face it. Roy Mustang was in love with him. He just had to get the bastard to admit it.

First, he needed a second opinion, and who better to ask than his guard dog? So he'd asked Hawkeye to meet him for lunch and now, sat alone at a table in the nearest sandwich bar awaiting her arrival, he was starting to rethink his train of thought. Maybe the idiot was just hiding some angry grudge? Or couldn't stand being around him and was watching to see when he'd leave? But he couldn't leave. Not yet, not without hearing Hawkeye's opinion. She knew him better than himself, surely she could tell Ed if his suspicions were right.

After she'd sat at the table with her order, watching him with concealed confusion, he gritted his teeth. Edward Elric was not one to back down. He put down his coffee and met her eyes, leaning forwards slightly. 

"I know," he settled with, scanning her face for any reaction - any sign that she already knew what he was talking about. "I figured it out. I know."

She paused, narrowing her red-brown eyes slightly as she set down her mug. She watched him a moment more and inclined her head, the corner of her lip twitching in amusement. "I don't think he does." She looked down at the table and pushed back a slipping piece of lettuce from her sandwich before glancing back up at Ed's eyes. "He's never had true feelings for another man before, Edward. Not in all the time I've known him. And I know him. I can see how he looks at you. But I don't think he realises what it means."

Ed nodded, resting back on his chair and swinging the legs for a second before sighing in frustration. "I get it," he answered quietly, and if he wasn't chock-full of nerves he probably would've laughed at the barely-repressed shock on her face at his calm composure. "I do. Ling was the first guy I ever thought about that way, and it terrified the shit out of me. Not fair that he was sharing his body with the literal fucking embodiment of Greed, who knew at a glance what I was feeling. But with Colonel... with Roy-" he swallowed-" With Roy, I understand. He's spent his whole fucking life dancing around women and mastering that shit and then suddenly he's looking at me, a weird-ass ex-alchemist missing a limb, and a guy, and he's just sorta..."

"Ignored it," Hawkeye finished for him, nodding in agreement before taking a sip of her tea. "I've asked him in the past about his preferences, years ago. Back in the academy, he used to look at Maes in a similar way. But after I asked, it was like... almost as if he'd forgotten all about it. He just didn't feel that way anymore. And with you..." she trailed off, meeting Ed's gaze again and sighing as her eyes drifted shut. "I'm worried that if he shuts himself off again, he'll hurt himself. Not literally, but... politically. He'll close off again and his career might suffer."

"He's grown up now," Ed smirked, thinking of the bastard's childish reactions to rain and other menial things. "And besides, it's not... unrequited this time."

Hawkeye blinked as if she hadn't expected the confession. Al had known for months. One glance in Ed's direction as the bastard had passed over documents and his younger brother could see the linger of his gaze on his hands. Ed hadn't needed to say a word, and while Al hadn't pushed him to say or do anything about it, he'd offered support. After all, wasn't that what family's for?

"Well, that certainly might help," Hawkeye finally said, her eyebrow settling back in line with the other. She glanced down at her watch and Ed caught the slight grimace in her usual blank expression. "I'll ask him about it. With any luck, he may well see sense." She pushed herself out of her seat, her hand clapping around her travel mug as she walked with him to the exit. They moved to walk in different directions, heading their separate ways, but a call from her turned his head back. "For what it's worth, Edward, I support it. You would be good for each other."

He swallowed and inclined his head before lifting his hand in acknowledgement and turning to leave. He couldn't do anything now. It was in her hands to pass on to the bastard, and then his choice to figure something out. Ed would have to wait.

Ed hated waiting. 

* * *

 

Roy set down his pen and wrung out his sore wrist, glaring daggers at the foreboding pile of incomplete paperwork that only seemed to get taller. He glanced up at the clock and sighed. It was nearly nine o'clock at night, and he had to be up at six - if he didn't head home soon he'd never get enough sleep.

Groaning, he pushed himself up from behind his desk, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his shoulders as he headed towards the door. On the other side, Lieutenant Hawkeye was still sat there behind her own workspace, obediently stamping bundles of paper as 'URGENT', ready to pile up on his desk come morning.

"Ah, sir," she said, standing up and clicking her pen as it dropped back in the cup she kept it in. "Are you done for the night?"

"Yes," he answered, threading his arms through the sleeves and wincing as his shoulder clicked. "I recommend you head home too, Lieutenant. It looks like another long day tomorrow," he pointed meaningfully at the stack of dead tree on her desk, ignoring the twitch of her eyebrow.

"Agreed, sir. I actually wanted to speak to you of some matters, if permission is granted?" He waved a hand as she picked up Black Hayate's lead, the tired dog perking up at the prospect of going for a walk. "Good. We can talk on the way."

As the left the building, they were greeted with the warm glow of orange light hovering over Central as the sun began to set. Summer months bring late dusks, and while he was glad of the warmth - it brought little rain - he couldn't help but feel his stomach turn at the golden light that shone over every surface. The colour reminded him of the tassel on his uniform shoulder, the fires of Ishval and, more worryingly, the golden blond braid that rested on the shoulder of his former subordinate. The past months had left his mind filled with equally worrying thoughts and uncalled-for suggestions regarding Edward Elric: the fiery determination in his eyes with every new task, the quick snort with every joke from his team, and his dating preferences. The latter was particularly problematic and left Roy with hundreds of questions that he couldn't begin to answer.

"Sir?"

He glanced down from the golden reflection on the glass of the window beside him and met the Lieutenant's eyes. The corners of her mouth twitch and his stomach turned again. Why was it Edward Elric, of all people, that his mind's eye was focused on; why not a beautiful woman, like Riza Hawkeye? Or any woman, rather than a brash, oddly attractive man who took every opportunity to argue with him?

"Are you thinking about him again?" the woman in question asked, her voice soft and sympathetic. His head pounded with an oncoming migraine. "I can tell, you know. You get this look in your eye. Like you're scared of yourself." He gritted his teeth and forced himself to be confident. 

"I don't follow you, Lieutenant," he answered, looking straight ahead as they walked. Two more blocks and they could put this conversation to bed.

"Edward Elric, sir," she clarified, and he resisted the urge to glare, instead settling for tensing his jaw. "You're scared of how you feel for him. But you don't have to be. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm here, you realise, sir, for you to talk to about these things. There are plenty of gay men and women in the military and-"

"I don't appreciate these insinuations, Lieutenant," he snarled, almost shocked at the snap of his own voice. "I have no feelings for Edward Elric, homosexual in nature or otherwise," he continued, swallowing the bitter taste in his throat that comes with the lie - of course he did. What man thought those things of other men and could claim complete freedom of homosexual urges? He wasn't an idiot, he wasn't denying the reality of his thoughts. He was denying the consequences. No General was openly queer, and the brass disliked him as it is. Add  _that_? He'd never be Fuhrer. Not to mention the horrific burn in his chest that came with the thought of not only having feelings for Edward but then being rejected by him.

"You don't need to lie to me, Roy," Hawkeye said, making eye contact with him as they began to head down the last block they needed to travel. "There is no shame in recognising an attractive man. There is no shame in having feelings for that man. The shame lies in refusing to acknowledge them and hurting the man in the process. What would you say if those feelings were reciprocated?"

He swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek at the thought. It was impossible for Edward to see him the same way his mind seems to be twisting reality. And besides, the thoughts he had were disgusting at best. What sort of man can claim love and responsibility for the country and then go home and wonder how another man would look in his bed? It was corrupt and wrong, and such thoughts had no place in the mind of the future Fuhrer. "There are no feelings to speak of, Lieutenant. Let this matter go. This conversation did not happen."

They reached the end of the street and she half-heartedly saluted as he turned to leave. "Just think on it, sir. I think you'd be surprised by his own feelings on the subject. You may well benefit bringing up these feelings to him."

"Leave it," he snapped, standing still at the end of the street. After a moment's silence, he sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow at work, Lieutenant. Good night."

* * *

 

It had been two weeks and Ed was tired of waiting. Hawkeye had told him to hang on, that the bastard would come to him eventually, but the cold and longing looks had only gotten more frequent and this was the last straw.

“I mean, what the fuck is that, Al?!” he screamed at his calming presence of a brother, sat on the end of his bed in their flat. “I know he knows I fucking caught him staring at my ass, and he brings up uniform regulations as a fucking excuse?! We’re civilian contractors! We don’t need to wear a fucking uniform! If he wants to stare at my ass, all he has to do is ask. I’ve been waiting for-fucking-ever and I’m done. Fuck this!”

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, Brother, it might not be the best idea. You remember how aggressive you used to get whenever anyone questioned your sexuality. You’ve had time to accept it. The General is thirty-six and he’s spent thirty-six years thinking he was straight. Confronting him in the way I know you’re planning to will backfire,” Al tried to reason, but Ed was already pacing in anger.

“Well, fuck if I care. It can’t go that wrong. He’s taking too fucking long thinking about it and I’m not a fucking waiting person! Fuck it.”

The rest of their morning was spent with Ed snarling at calming comments from bystanders on their walk to Central Command, with Al sighing and watching with worry. Ed could feel the looks his younger brother was giving him, but he didn’t care. Playing hard to get was one thing, but no one ignored Edward Elric for weeks on end.

By the time they reached the outer office, he was pretty sure he was red with anger. Hawkeye caught his eye and twitched her head to the side in a subtle ‘no’, but he ignored her. He tried her way and it didn’t work. He strode over and swung the bastard’s door open before stalking in and slamming it, faintly recognising the sound of his brother talking quickly but focusing instead on the shocked look on Mustang’s face.

“You’re... early,” he said after a moment of dumbfounded staring. He collected himself and unleashed the classic Mustang smirk, boiling Ed’s blood in the process. “I have seen a lot of odd things in my time, Edward, but I never thought I’d see you get to a meeting early.”

“Oh, cut the shit, Mustang. What the fuck is going on?” Ed snapped in response, trying and failing to control his anger. “You stare at me, and make stupid little comments, and I catch you fucking watching my ass as I walk and you... You, what, you pretend nothing happened?!”

“Nothing has happened, Edward,” the bastard said coolly, standing and moving around his desk. “You can make these insinuations all you want, but I do not appreciate it, and I can guarantee you that they are false. If you have developed inappropriate feelings for me, that is not my fault. Nor is it my fault that such feelings are not reciprocated. I can arrange for a transfer if you would not like to report to me any longer, but-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ed interrupted, exasperated. “I get it, Mustang, okay? You’re having a mid-life fucking crisis and you’re scared of being gay. Who gives a fuck? You can’t treat me like some cheap fucking eye candy and then be a dick about it. You have to face it eventually, Roy, and I’m sick of waiting for you to finish wallowing in self-hate!”

“I don’t treat you like anything, Edward, and I’m not wallowing. I don’t need to face a thing; there is nothing to face.”

“Sure, okay, face this then.”

Ed quickly closed the gap between them and fisted his automail hand in the blue shirt as he dragged Roy’s face down to his. Their lips met in a clumsy, aggressive clash and he could feel palms pressing firmly against his chest and pushing him away. The older man stared at him in shock before his eyes narrowed and he erupted in anger.

“What the fuck was that?” he snarled, dark eyes filled with a sharp accusation. Ed blinked in surprise – he’d never heard the bastard swear, not once. “Well? What the fuck made you think that was a good plan?”

“I... wait, but you-”

“But I what? I’m not gay, Edward. I’m not fucking gay, and that was entirely uncalled for!” he shouted, his voice rumbling through Ed with his anger. He paused and stuck his arm out, pointing at the door. “Get out.”

“What?!” Ed asked in shock, starting to feel a confused panic set in. All he could think of was the fact that maybe Al was right about his plans backfiring. “No, but you’re supposed to-”

“Get the fuck out of my office, Edward,” he snarled, low voiced and pure anger in his eyes. Ed blinked, trying to process the situation. Roy stalked over to the door, slammed it open and waits expectantly as Ed stood still. “Get the fuck out!”

The entire team stared at him as he rushed past in panic, trying to hold back the tears that would inevitably come when he was alone. Al ran behind him, asking questions, and he could only imagine the looks the bastard must’ve been getting from his team after swearing in front of them. Ed only felt frustration, anger at Hawkeye for misleading him – although it may not have been entirely her fault – and sadness at the rejection. He’d made another colossal mistake, and this time he couldn’t think of a way to fix it.

* * *

 

Roy stepped inside the bar, plastering on a suave grin in response to the squealed greetings from the girls around him. Where he had once appreciated their beauty, he instead understood the aesthetic appeal and froze at the sight of a blond braid. He shook his head clear and headed straight to the bar, freeing his arm of one of the younger women with a smile and trying to ignore the confusion that had set in deep.

It had been almost ten hours since he’d last seen Edward, and in all that time his mind hadn’t wavered. His anger had shocked him; he didn’t understand it. Any anger he had ever experienced was one he understood: hating the brass for ordering them to murder Ishvalans, hating himself for killing so many, hating himself for so many things. But this anger was as misunderstood as Edward himself, and he had no idea what to do about it.

“Roy-boy, what brings you here to this fine establishment?”

He glanced up and forced a smirk on his face at the sight of Madame Christmas stood behind the bar, a glass of whisky in her hand and stretched out towards him. He took it and quickly downed a mouthful before making eye contact. “I thought you might be able to help me understand something.” She watched him as he set the glass on the counter and perched on one of the stools. She had raised him to be upfront about the things that mattered. That was what he would be. “I seem to have developed feelings for someone. Romantic feelings.”

“Well, we can’t be having that,” she smirked back at him, leaning back and crossing her arms. “What would happen to your reputation if you settled down, Roy-boy?”

“This person,” he continued, resisting the urge to glare at her. “I don’t understand these... these feelings. I haven’t felt like this before for another... for someone like them. And I don’t understand it.” He picked up his glass and took another mouthful, looking up and meeting her gaze. “And today, they kissed me. And I didn’t understand, so I lashed out. I shouted.”

She pursed her lips and watched him finish his drink, considering his words. He blinked back at her, feeling uncomfortable under her judging stare. “So, you’ve come to ask me what to do about it? Why is it, Roy-boy, that you never think of a solution when you bring your problems to me? Why do you think I can solve this issue any more than you?”

“This person is a man, Madame. Edward is a man. I am not gay. I don’t understand any of this and I thought you, of all people, might be willing to offer a little advice,” he snapped back, still confused at his anger and knowing that lashing out is the last thing he should be doing if he wants her support. She blinked at him and smirked.

“How many times, Roy-boy, have I told you that sexuality is fluid? Love is blind, boy, and if you’re leaning towards giving that to another man? Go for it. You said he kissed you. You are the one holding back and you are only going to hurt the both of you by doing so.” He swallowed, staring gloomily at his empty glass. “You didn’t come here for me to tell you that. You came here for me to tell you that your feelings are wrong and set you up with one of my girls. Let me tell you this, Roy-boy,” she leant forward over the bar and he swallowed again. “You will have none of my girls for as long as you have feelings for this man. If, however, you want one of my boys so you know what you’re doing when yours wants more than a kiss, you have your pick. What’s it gonna be?”

He blinked, glancing over his shoulder at one of the boys in question, leaning against the wall and surveying the room with blond hair falling over his eyes. He blinked again, glancing at a freckled red-head. His eyes scanned over the men on offer and he bit his lip as he looked back at the Madame. “You’re right. I’m being an idiot. I’m... going to find him and apologise for shouting at him. But with... with that I don’t... don’t have a clue what I’m doing and I don’t think I want to learn from one of your boys,” he answered, feeling a flush rising on his face as he considered the idea of bedding any of those men as ‘practice’. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and stood to leave. “Thank you for the offer, though. And the advice.”

“No problem, Roy-boy. Next time you need me to put your head back on straight, just come running back. And, Roy?”

He turned back to her and grimaced at the sick smirk on her face. “Don’t skimp out on the lube, unless you want it to hurt.” He made a face and waved a hand at her as he made his exit, ignoring her mad cackle. He needed to find Edward and see if it’s not too late to fix things.

* * *

 

Al had just poured the tea for his brother when the doorbell rang. His ears perked in the direction of the noise and he stepped over to Ed, holding out the mug and considering the exhausted expression, tears still burning his eyes. He hadn’t seen him cry in years and it was almost terrifying. While he knew his brother was at fault for addressing the situation at hand head-first, he knew the General carried most of the blame. Identity crisis or not, no one treated his brother like that. No one reduced his brother to tears, leaving him curled up with one of the cats, staring at the steam in his tea. And no one got away from him when he protected his brother. As much as he respected the General, he would be lucky to get out of this with less than a few bruises.

He smiled warmly at Ed, who mumbled an apology and tried to put on a smile. Ignoring the ache in his chest at that expression, he turned to the hallway to meet their visitor. He personally didn’t understand the feelings Ed had. Sure, he’d seen the odd attractive man and recognised the appeal, but he himself had never wanted that. He didn’t get it. But he still offered his support. Ed was Ed and he had never fully understood him anyway. All he needed was someone to support him. And if Ed couldn’t do it by himself, he’d stand by his side and open the doors for him.

And open the door he did, to be met with the General himself, a nervous smirk plastered on his face and a tattered book under his arm. “Alphonse, sorry to disturb you so late at night. Is Edward in? I need to see him.”

“No, you don’t,” he answered, mustering up his darkest glare. “You don’t need to see him. Not after the way you treated him. I’ve never seen him like this, not since before mum died. He’s always been the strong one and you’ve reduced him to...” he trailed off, gritting his teeth and glancing at the book. “Bribes won’t get him to forgive you. Or me. I might collect cats and help people, General, but I am not opposed to breaking a few bones to protect what matters. The people who matter.”

The General paled, glancing over Al’s shoulder into the apartment. Al tensed his jaw, closing the door behind him as he left the hallway. He faced the man in front of him as he began to stutter out an apology. “Well, I understand that. I’m not accustomed to feeling this way either. But some wise friends of mine talked some sense into me and I realised my mistakes. I brought this, not as a bribe, as an apology. I understand if he-”

Al snapped, lashing out his arm and catching him in the eye with a closed fist. The General dropped the book in his hands and holds one out, the other pressing itself to his eye as Al broke his cool and shouted. “No, you damn well don’t! You don’t understand anything! Brother is all I have left of my family and I’ll be damned if I let someone like you ruin him! You’ve hurt him and that means you hurt me and if you’re anything less than a hundred per cent professional in the office next week when he’s returned from his sick leave, we will both hand in our papers and go back home to Resembool! You will not make any uncalled-for advances. You can think about what you’ve done and explain to the men in the office that you hurt my brother so I hurt you. And so help me God, if you so much as look in his direction without me there, you can hand in your own papers because I swear, I will ruin you. I can do it, and I will. No one hurts Ed.”

The General blinked and Al feels almost guilty at the hurt look in his eyes but steeled himself. He dropped his hand from his face and knelt down to pick up the book, holding it out. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, uncharacteristically gentle and the sound echoing in the silence. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was...” He visibly swallowed and Al glared at him, waiting for him to continue. “I was scared. He was right. But I’m sorry. I’ll... I’ll stay away from him. But let him have this. It’s quite rare, I’d hate for it to... just let him have this. Please.”

Al snatched the book and stared until the man turned and left, a sorrowful look on his face as he headed for the stairs, turning back once with a tense jaw. Looking down, Al grimaced at the book, realising that yes, it was rare. Ancient pre-Amestris alchemy texts are incredibly hard to come by, and this one, in particular, had been erased from history. And yet somehow, Roy Mustang had got his hands on a copy for his brother. He gritted his teeth. No rare books excused what he did.

He went back into the apartment, heading for Ed and forcing the calm smile. His blood was boiling as he offered out the book.

“Oh my God, Al!” his brother exclaimed, setting his mug on the table and smiling for the first time in hours. “Do you have any idea how rare this is? Where did you get it?”

“That’s not important,” he smiled, glad that as much as the General hurt his brother, he still managed to put a smile on his face. “Just enjoy it.”

* * *

 

"Fuck’s sake, Al, I don’t need a babysitter. I’m just going to get our new assignment. I’m over it. It’s fine. I don’t need to have you breathing down my neck. We need the assignment, neither of us have worked of a week,” Ed whined at his brother as he grabbed the keys and followed him out the apartment.

“Well, it’s my job too, Brother, so I’ll come with you. And besides, I haven’t seen Breda fall off a chair in a week. I miss it.”

Ed snorted, rolling his eyes as they started to walk. By the time they reached the building, his heart was pounding at the reality of seeing the bastard again. He couldn’t forget the faint taste of coffee on his lips or the surprising softness of them. He could’ve sworn there was some sort of spark in that brief kiss, but apparently not. There couldn’t be, not with the way he’d reacted. Not with the sudden absence of phone calls questioned the illegibility of his latest reports. He channelled out Al’s excited chattering, feeling dread as the tall white Command building looked over them. He let Al provide papers for the sentries and gritted his teeth as the headed for the office. Before too long, the excited, procrastinating voices of the team swarmed over him.

“Boss, you’re back! The Chief said you was on sick leave. But you’re healthy now! Hey, we should celebrate! Anyone fancy drinking tonight?” Havoc rambled, and Ed snorted in amusement, nodding. He didn’t often get time to hang out with them but it was always fun.

“I’d rather not, I’ve got a fair amount of studying to take care of. Finals are in a few weeks,” Al said, glancing at Ed. He nodded in response, a secret message to tell him he’s fine on his own. Elric brother telepathy in all its glory.

“Damn, you’re no fun,” Breda joked. “At least we get Ed, though. Where to?”

“The usual? If the Boss doesn’t mind not stealing the girls,” Havoc glared, and Ed snorted again. “Come on, I mean it. You and the Chief are always stealing all the girls with the smirk or your golden boy thing. Not fair. This place has enough to go around so don’t go taking all of them.” Ed rolled his eyes in response – he had no idea where they were planning on taking him but he’s certain he’s not quite ready to get back into dating yet. No matter what he said to Al, he was still attached to the bastard – and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t dream of taking anyone Havoc had his eyes on.

“Not a problem, Havoc, the girls... they’re not really my type. You can torture them all by yourself.” He glanced up at Hawkeye watching him from across the room as they all laughed, not really grasping his meaning. He swallowed. “I’m gonna go get our assignment, Al. You still babysitting me?”

“You’ll have to get it from Hawkeye, Ed,” Fuery told him as Al opened his mouth to answers. “The General locked himself in that office about an hour ago and we haven’t seen him since. He told us no one was to disturb him.” Ed grinned, the weight on his chest lifting with the understanding that he wouldn’t have to see the bastard. He pushed himself off the perch he’d settled on at Havoc’s desk and headed towards Hawkeye.

“Edward, I thought I told you to wait. To give him time. At no point did I say confront him or give him a black eye,” she stated coolly, her eyebrows level. He frowned at the latter statement, turning to glance over his shoulder at Al, still talking to the others. “Either way, it’s out of my hands now. You two will figure something out, I’m sure. I’m staying out of it this time.” She sighed and put down her pen, reaching for a thin file. “I presume you’re here for your assignment. Someone tried to break into the First Branch Library and steal alchemical texts. Brigadier-General Mustang has requested you look into it, see if you can gather information. Anything regarding security, who broke in, how they did it and what they were looking for. He also requested you do it legally this time. Without violence, if at all possible.”

“I request he fucks off,” he mumbled, taking the file and skimming through the brief notes provided, along with a few photographs. “Yeah, okay, simple enough. When does he want it?”

“Friday. He said Sunday is also acceptable if you, and I quote: ‘get so lost in the alchemy that you forget you can’t actually perform it and need to start over.’” Ed rolled his eyes, slipping the file under his arm and lazily providing a two-fingered salute. He wasn’t even going to start until after that night. He’d never had time to be a heavy drinker but he was open to the experience. It would be fun.

* * *

 

“Okay, I get it, but what do I do next time?” Havoc laughed, directing his words to the pretty blonde girl he’d been failing to pick up. She smirked, glancing over her shoulder before leaning forward and whispering in his ear; she winked and walked away. He went red and everyone burst out into laughter again.

Ed was right. He was pretty sure this was at least half a brothel but either way it was fun watching Havoc strike out every time. The blond man in question glared at Ed as he continued to laugh. He shrugs, glancing over to catch the girl laughing to her friends. “I mean, fuck, Havoc, was that really the best you can do?”

“I bet you can’t do much better!” he cried out in response, and Ed smirked with arms crossed over his chest. He could sense a challenge. “I pick a girl, you get her number. Lack of experience alone will fuck you over, Boss.” Ed rolled his eyes, sick of playing the games.

“Lack of enthusiasm, maybe. Come on, asshole, I’ve been saying the same shit for weeks now and none of you dipshits have picked up on it. I’m gay. But you pick any guy in this place and I’ll get his number,” Ed answered, letting his eyes skim over the room as he waited for the shock to subside. “Also,” he continued, glaring around the group. “I may be alchemy-free, but one bullshit world and I can still beat you shitless.”

He restrained a snort as Fuery’s face blanched, and Breda shrugged. “Whatever, Boss. No one cares if you like dick. A number’s a number.” Ed grinned in response; the military had never been the most accepting place, and as much as he hated the bastard, he had a good team.

“How about that guy?!” Fuery perked up, pointing obviously at a slim, dark-haired man leaning against the bar. A second glance at his bare hands told Ed that his mind was playing tricks on him, and after downing the remains of his drink, he set out on his mission.

He took a deep breath. He knew better than anyone that he was talking a big game – Havoc was right. At twenty years old, he was quite a bit younger than the others and has almost no experience. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try his best. He took another breath and releases it slowly, plastering on his brightest smile and sliding against the bar beside the man in question. A third look gave him shivers – brothel or not, this place had some attractive people within its walls. Dark hair curled lightly around the guy’s ears and his eyes were mismatched – one a deep blue, the other a bright green. A silver ring around his lip glinted in the dimmed light, and Ed bit the inside of his cheek. “Hey,” he said, trying to stop his smile from appearing sarcastic; he wasn’t used to using those muscles as much as was required.

“Hey, I’m Noah,” the man answered, grinning lopsidedly as though he was amused by the attempt. Ed swallowed and tried to think of something clever to say, deciding instead to just say the truth. People liked truths, right? He sighed, pulling on a strand of hair tugging the back of his head and making his scalp itch.

“Uh, Ed. Look, I’m being honest,” he smiled weakly, glancing at Havoc’s smug smirk across the room. “I’m not good at this shit and my friend bet me I couldn’t get your number. I only made the bet to show him up since he seems to be repelling every girl in this place.”

“Jean Havoc?” Noah asked, turning his head with a grin. “Yeah, he’s kinda infamous around here. I don’t even work here anymore and I know the rumours. Honestly, you’re not that bad at this. You can definitely have my number. Do you wanna know a secret though?”

Ed grinned and nodded, feeling a sense of achievement and blinking against the sudden eye contact. “Fuck yeah, I love secrets.”

Suddenly Noah leant towards him, weaving his fingers in his shirt. Ed could feel a warm puff of breath against his neck and his mouth dropped open in shock. “I’d let you take me home, not just my number.” He pulled back and sipped the drink beside him on the counter and Ed swallowed, knowing he was going red. The man smirked, setting the glass back down and reaching for a napkin as he grabs a stray pen lying on the bar. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he murmured as he handed the napkin to Ed, a list of digits scribbled on. It took him a minute to realise it was his number, and he carefully folded it, trying to control his shaking hands.

“I, uh, thanks,” he choked out after a minute. He swallowed again and blinked a few times. Noah laughed as he fumbled with his words, his eyes glinting brighter than his lip ring.

“I am serious. If you decide you’re done with them,” he said, gesturing over to the table Ed had come from. “Come find me.”

Ed nodded, feeling a grin returning to his face as he slipped the napkin into his pocket, heading back towards the table. He grinned wider at Havoc’s appalled face. “Well, asshole, looks like I’m better than you,” he forced out, grinning as laughter surrounded him again. “I even got an offer to leave.”

Havoc’s eyes almost bulged out of his head and he hit his forehead against the table in frustration. “Dammit!” he cried out. He lifted his face with a frown. “Hang on, what man in his right mind refuses sex?”

Ed flushed, glancing back at the man against the counter, now leaning across it to talk to a stocky woman stood behind it. He looked back at Havoc and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s hot but... fuck, I guess I’m kinda, mentally unavailable, or something. Fuck if I know.” He slinked back into his stool and shrugged again.

“Aw,” Havoc answered sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. “Has the Boss got a crush? Hey, Madame! My friend Ed here has a crush!” Ed turned his head as the woman from behind the bar approached their table with a tray of five replacement drinks. “No way! Damn, Ed, you didn’t do that too?” He frowned, shaking his head as the woman nodded, raising an eyebrow and smirking at him.

“Indirectly, yes. My nephew has been telling me stories about you, boy. I owe you a few things for setting him straight. Or not, I suppose,” she said, setting down the tray and crossing her arms as Ed continued to frown. He glanced at the others, who were also frowning.

“Her nephew’s the Chief, Ed,” Breda muttered to him, and Ed blinked. This woman was Mustang’s aunt?

“Oh, fuck,” he said in realisation. “Oh, shit. Fuck. I didn’t... shit.” He stared up at the suddenly recognisable smirk. “I don’t know what he told you but I didn’t... I guess I didn’t really do the best thing but I didn’t mean to hurt him or anything,” he forced out, his heart racing in his chest as the puzzle pieces started to fall together.

“Oh, shut it. He’s the one who hurt you, I’m not stupid,” she answered, lowering her raised eyebrow. “I’ve been trying to get him to see it for himself for years now. He’s always been one to lose control of the stray glance. Like I said, thanks for giving him a nudge.”

“What’s she on about, Ed?” Fuery asked, frowning, and he swallowed, shaking his head.

“Anyway, Edward Elric. He told me what he said to you and he also told me he wishes he hadn’t. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. But Noah’s a good kid if my idiot nephew put you off. Enjoy your evening.” She stood straight and walked away, and her words are left with him. He blinked, downing a drink in one go and thinking about how much he needed to forget about this. The bastard wouldn’t be good for him, no matter what Hawkeye had said. He slammed the glass back down and mumbled a goodbye to the men around the table, stalking back over to Noah.

“You know what?” he almost slurred, leaning on his elbow and sliding in close, all nerves forgotten. “I wouldn’t mind getting out of here.”

* * *

 

Roy slumped in his seat and groaned. After glaring for a few seconds at the untouched papers, he pushed himself out of his seat and headed into the outer office for coffee. His heart stopped as he recognised a familiar blond braid and remembers what Alphonse had said to him. He couldn’t completely avoid him when his brother wasn’t there, not if they worked in the same office. He gritted his teeth and plastered on a smirk as he stepped over, reaching for the coffee jug that seemed to have taken up residence on Havoc’s desk. “Good night, Lieutenant?” he asked the hungover face hiding under the mop of dirty blond hair. Its owner groaned at him and tried to snatch the coffee back.

“No. Too many drinks and not enough women. I swear, Chief, they all run from me.” Roy smirked wider, pouring himself a mug of lukewarm sludge and grimacing as he took a sip. “Can you stop spreading those rumours about me? Please? If you must tell lies, tell them about the Boss.”

“That sounds like a story,” he forced out, meeting the golden eyes across the desk and immediately diverting his gaze as he made a show of inspecting the mess of paperwork.

He glanced up again as even Fuery started laughing and looked over at the reddening face of his former subordinate. Heeding Alphonse’s warning, he turned back to the paperwork, smirking at multiple coffee rings on the top sheet.

“Yeah, well, he’s no you, but he’s the only one of us that went home with someone last night.”

Roy’s eyes snapped up and he desperately tried to scrape back the devastated expression that was creeping onto his face. “Oh,” he finally replied, watching the mess of red and gold that somehow took form beyond the glaze of almost-tears. What was wrong with him? Since when did Roy Mustang react like that to something so simple? He cleared his throat. “Well... congratulations, I suppose, Edward.” He could feel the ache in his chest. After that first conversation with the Madame, he had gathered some kind of self-understanding and the thought of Edward in bed with someone else just hurt. The following conversations, where he came to terms with himself and wasn’t as terrified, made the thought burn. “Anyone special?”

The younger man blinked and his expression hardened, and Roy already knew he was going to regret asking that. “Noah something. I didn’t catch his last name.” A face flicked into his mind and he was reminded of the asymmetric features, the curled hair. And then an image of that face pressed into his neck and his heart cracked anew. “He was pretty good, actually. Loud,” he grinned, glancing down as Havoc and Breda fell over themselves in laughter. “I might call him sometime.”

“I still stand by the fact that you didn’t technically win the bet. You cheated,” Havoc snarled, his eyes glinting to take away the harsh edge. “You told him about the bet. Cheat. And you just looked all pathetic and he took pity on you.”

“It’s not my fault you sprayed yourself with all that girl repellent before you got there. And I didn’t look pathetic! He just threw me off. His eyes don’t match and he’s got a lip ring. It’s hot. It wasn’t fair, he didn’t look like that from behind. Well,” Roy glanced up to spot a smirk on that golden face and something inside him splintered. “Not at the bar, anyway.”

The men laughed again and started to chatter about other puns Ed could’ve made. Each one feels like a needle slowly digging out holes inside him and he couldn’t help but feel like this feeling was all his fault: why would he talk to him like he did? Why couldn’t he just see what he was feeling instead of acting like some angry teenager?

“You should’ve been there, Chief. I don’t know how he drank so little and got so tipsy. Cheaper that way, he’s lucky. And then the Madame gave him more and he ran off with that guy. Although she did say some weird-ass things,” Breda was saying, and Roy met his gaze. “Talking about you like she owed Ed a favour. Dunno what you’ve done, Chief, but if it teaches techniques like that to Edward Elric, of all people, I approve. That dude basically came to you, Ed!” Roy felt like something was squeezing his insides at that; this entire situation was entirely his fault.

“You gonna come with us next time, Chief? Steal all the girls and tell them I’m not evil?” Havoc asked him, and he gritted his teeth, shaking his head.

“No,” he mumbled, forcing his hands not to shake as he tried to maintain the mask he’d relied on for so long. “You repel them all by yourself. I haven’t slept with any of them,” he continued, wincing at the thought of bedding Lucy or Natalie, or any of the others. Or even the boys. “That’d be like Edward sleeping with Miss Rockbell or Alphonse.”

“Ew!” Edward cries out, visibly shuddering. “Oh, that’s gross! Oh, fuck, does that mean I fucked your brother? He said he used to work there.”

Roy considers, ignoring the images that flash across his mind with that wording. “No, he’s a fair amount younger than me. Early twenties, I think. I was visiting of furlough from Ishval by the time he showed up,” he answered, remembering the then-teenager asking him how he was going to get all the sand out of his hair. He also remembered wondering how he’d get the blood out of his soul.

“Well, that’s good,” Edward replies, and Roy can feel something creeping up his throat. He nodded absentmindedly, forcing distance between reality and his mind. He let his eyes flicker between Ed’s face and the rest of his men.

“Okay. Well, paperwork calls. I’ve got to get back. Tell Alphonse there’s going to be no problems. He’ll understand. And no disturbances again. I have a lot to get through.” He directed the last bit to the men around the table and, after one last stolen glance at Edward, he retreated. Meeting Hawkeye’s gaze, he faltered and forced himself on. As his office door clicked shut behind him, he felt the rain hit his face. “Terrible timing,” he muttered to himself, running a sleeve over his eyes and directing his mind to the paperwork. It wouldn’t serve to get it wet.

* * *

 

“Are you okay, Brother?” Al asked him, and he nodded, frowning instinctively as he thought back on the events in the office. The bastard had looked genuinely upset. He couldn’t stop thinking back on that woman’s words the night before – he’d wanted to hurt him back by talking about Noah, but once he started he could see the ache in those dark eyes and wanted to stop. He couldn’t back down though.

“Yeah, just... just something Mustang did,” he answered, glancing at the phone and thinking about calling Noah. He seemed like a good man, but a decision was a decision and he’d made that one for a reason. “Oh, and he said to tell you there’s not gonna be any problems. What the fuck does that mean? What did you do, Al?” He glared at his brother, who eventually wilted and nodded.

“He showed up last week to... bribe you, I think. With that book. I told him to leave and not come back and then I punched him. He left,” Al shrugged and Ed thought back on Hawkeye’s words the day before, about Mustang showing up with a black eye. He blinked at Al.

“You punched Mustang?”

“Yes, Brother.”

“What the fuck, Al?!” he exclaimed jumping out of his seat and staring at his brother in shock. “What the actual fuck?! What happened to you being the calm brother? What happened to me being the one to punch people for no reason? Why the fuck would you do that, Al?!”

“He hurt you, Brother!” Al shouted back, shocking Ed as he also stood and used his height to his advantage. For the first time, Ed felt like the chastised younger brother. “He hurt you and I had to watch you suffering because of him! If someone hurt me like that you’d go to the ends of the Earth to make them suffer. So why can’t I punch a dick who hurts you?!” Ed blinked in surprise – Al had never sworn and had never shouted back.

“He didn’t hurt me, Al,” he murmured back, his mind flickering with images of Mustang’s face over the years. The odd smile, the glint in his eyes whenever he realised he was ahead of the game. Even the smug smirk. Then his mind clicked: he’d been trying to get the bastard to admit he’d fallen in love with him and ignored the fact that he’d done the exact same thing. “No. Shit. I hurt him. I forced him to face it when he wasn’t ready and he just did what I do all the time; he lashed out. That’s not his fault.”

He looked back at the phone again and pulled the napkin out of his pocket, glancing at the number before tearing it and dropping it in the bin. He hadn’t been trying to move on, he’d been running away all over again. This time there weren’t any burnt-down houses, but the smouldering remains of any hope of a relationship with the bastard were still scattered around them. All he could hope for was a chance to fit the pieces back together again.

He looked up at Al and smiled thinly and the confused expression on his face – on his human face. Everything they’d gone through together and he still couldn’t see he was running away until afterwards. “I’ll be back in a bit. I’ve got something to do.”

With that, he turned on his heel and ran out of the flat. Where would the bastard be? Maybe in the office – as much as he complained about the paperwork he was essentially a workaholic.

When he arrived, though, it was empty. Only Hawkeye was there, and with one look in her direction, he received only a frown and a quick shake of the head. The inner office door was open and the lights were off – wherever the bastard had run off to, he’d left his office in good condition. “I don’t know where he is, Edward,” Hawkeye piped up as he stared blankly at the wall behind her head. “He wandered away an hour or so ago, morbid look on his face, said he was going home. But I called his house... half an hour ago. Three or four times I called and he didn’t pick up. So either he’s ignoring me or he never went home. I called all his known hiding places and sent Havoc to some of them that don’t have lines, but nothing. Sorry, Edward.”

He gritted his teeth, trying to think. Past the confused haze, his mind was amused at the military-like precision of the search effort.  “Why would he say he’s going home and then not go there?” he murmured, resting his thumb and finger against his chin as he tried to grasp the facts. “Unless...” he started, trailing off as he remembered the night before. That woman was his aunt. Maybe that’s what he meant by home – not a house, but a family. And from the reputation he’d heard, it was unlikely Hawkeye would have the number for that bar or even be aware of it. He felt a grin forming as he met her eyes. “Got it! See you!”

He ran again, forcing himself to focus on the directions he’d followed the night before instead of the questions spinning around his head. Now he knew how he truly felt, he needed to fix it. No matter what.

* * *

 

“I don’t... I don’t know about that, Madame,” Roy forced out, trying not to slur as he shakily set down his fourth drink of the night. It wasn’t wise to drink so much so quickly, but after seeing Edward interact with his team in that way he just wanted to keep going until he couldn’t see his reflection in the liquid anymore. “It’s just me being stupid, I suppose. Irresponsibly unintelligent.”

“Now, don’t sell yourself short, Roy-boy. There’s plenty of men out there to get your panties in a twist over. A week ago you were insisting you were straight, and now you’re drinking yourself into a ditch over some blond teenager?”

“He’s not a teenager, Madame, he’s twenty,” he argued back, lifting the glass again and proceeding to empty it. He hadn’t felt so hopeless in years, not since Maes was killed. And every time he got to this point, he insisted he’d cope better this time, and yet he got himself into the same state again and again.

He went to continue talking but a man beside him interrupted, leaning over the counter with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to cut in, can I have one of the usual?” Roy blinked and squinted his eyes as he tried to focus on the familiar face: the unequal eyes that met his own and the glimmer of metal in the lip. He let his eyes skim over the dark curls and gritted his teeth, feeling ill as the name came to him. He turned away and accepted the refill offered by the Madame before she left to prepare the new drink. The man started to talk. “Sorry, you look familiar, have we met?”

“Yes,” he answered curtly, all diplomacy flying out the window as he tensed his jaw and tried to control the urge to throw punches. It’s not Noah’s fault that Edward preferred him to Roy. He set down the glass again and let his hand curl around it, feeling a familiar smirk as he noticed it’s already half empty. He should really have thought about going home soon – it’s only Tuesday; he couldn’t afford to show up to the office hungover. “My name is Roy Mustang,” he let himself slur, glancing up at the surprised expression.

“Oh! You’ve changed since I last saw you. How’s Edward? I assume he came to you after he left me last night.”

Roy flinched in surprise as he felt a sharp pain in his hand, looking down to realise the glass had shattered between his fingers. He blinked at it as Noah swore, reaching for napkins and grabbing at Roy’s hand. He snatched it back and couldn’t restrain the glare. Even he was shocked; what happened to the Mustang mask that he held at every moment? All he could think of was Edward in bed with this man, Edward crying out his name instead of Roy’s, and he was gripped with the same cold jealousy, the same icy envy that had stolen his best friend from him.

He blinked as he realised that the man was holding his hand again and talking. “Oh my God, that’s glass, you’re bleeding. Are you okay, Roy? How did it break? Do you need stitches?” He stared down at his hand and mentally answered: no, not if he cauterised the wound. And besides, what was a little physical pain compared to the emotional suffering at the unknowing hands of Edward Elric?

He pulled out his glove and slipped it onto his other hand, about to snap his fingers and seal it shut when a golden hand slipped into the gloved palm. He blinked, looking up into matching golden eyes. “Don’t be so fucking stupid, bastard,” came the voice following those eyes. “Fire? When your hand is covered in whatever alcohol you’ve been drowning yourself in? You’ll lose the whole fucking thing, and trust me, missing limbs isn’t exactly easy. Although I’ve got the number for the best automail mechanic in the world if you need one.” Roy choked on a breath and pulled the hand in his as he buried his face in Edward’s shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of his own weakness. He knew he was crying, he knew he was in public and he knew he was clinging weakly to a man that probably hated him. But he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the dampened fabric of his shoulder. “I was so horrible, I’m sorry for all those things I said.”

“What the fuck, Mustang, stop being so fucking weird!” Edward cried out, pushing him back and grabbing a napkin from Noah’s hand, gently pressing it to the beads of blood on Roy’s palm. “And besides, you’re not the only one who said stupid shit that wasn’t true. And fuck you for thinking it was. What the fuck made you think I actually fucked someone? I couldn’t not when I couldn’t get you out of my head. I just did that to make you jealous.” Roy let his eyes travel up to meet Noah’s and, through the haze of drunken tears, he saw an amused if confused smile. He frowned up at Edward and blinked at the furrowed eyebrows focusing on his injured hand.

“Wait, that’s why you were looking so depressed?” Noah asked after a moment, watching Edward work. “He told you we fucked so the great Roy Mustang was drinking alone in a brothel?”

“It’s not a brothel,” he mumbled, looking at the glinting shards of glass and shakily picked a few up. “Madame!” he called out, drawing her attention and shooting his hand out to present the broken glass. “I’ll pay for it this time,” he said as she took it from him and raised an eyebrow. She looked over the three of them and barked out a laugh as Roy tried to slide out of his seat.

“Well, Roy-boy, I think you ought to go home and think about sobering up. I’m sure your team would find it hilarious to see you hungover but it may not be the best for your reputation.” He nodded, pushing away from the bar and grabbing Edward’s wrist, pulling it after him. “Maybe not,” the Madame continued, exchanging a suspicious look with the ex-alchemist. “You’re still drunk, Roy-boy. Go home. Sleep in your bed, not his.”

“I’m not doing that,” he slurred, letting go of the hand and reaching for the shirt with slipping fingers. He smiled as the fabric caught and the younger man blushed. “But I am doing this.”

He clumsily pulled Edward towards him, crashing their lips together. His brain had long-since shut down, but his body moved on instinct; his teeth closed gently around his lower lip and pulled away a surprised gasp. He smiled into it and stumbled as he tried to push their bodies closer together, frowning as Edward pressed his palms against his chest in a similar move to his own the day before. He met those golden eyes with a confused expression.

“You are drunk, Mustang, you fucking idiot. And you taste like whiskey. We’ll pick this up tomorrow when you’re sober. Hawkeye will fucking kill me if I don’t get you to bed in time for work,” Edward smiled, curling his fingers in Roy’s white shirt and tugging gently. “You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning. Bed. Now.” Roy grinned and nodded, stumbling as he headed towards the exit.

“Goodnight, Madame!” he called out over his shoulder, hearing laughter erupting from the various girls who’d gathered to watch him with the suspicious blond man. “Thank you!”

* * *

 

“Oh, God, can I just jump off a fucking cliff somewhere? I swear to fucking God, I’m never drinking again,” Ed groaned, pressing a hand to his head as he tried to kick his still-clothed legs out from under the sheets. He reached up to his neck and pulled loose the tie. “This thing is fucking suffocating me.”

“I did warn you, honey,” Roy smirked from beside him, and he groaned anew.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop fucking calling me that?” he threw the strip of fabric at the bastard and forced himself out of bed. “Oh, God,” he mumbled as the room span, reaching his hand out and leaning against the wall for support. He blinked against the sunlight draining through the curtains and hated to think what the outside must look like – around the gorgeous lakes and landscapes that fill the Aerugonian horizon, that is. His head swirled again and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck me,” he murmured, pressing his left hand against his forehead and flinching at the cold press of metal. He glanced down at his hand and smiled at the sight.

“Maybe later. Honey,” Roy answered, a wide grin on his face as Ed turned back to glare at him. “Let me see that,” he said, holding his hand out for Ed to provide his. Once Ed could feel the familiar warmth of the bastard’s hand in his, the cold metal was even more pronounced, and he blinked as the idiot pressed his lips to it. “It’ll warm up eventually. It does suit you.”

“It’s not a suit,” Ed grinned, laughing as he saw him roll his dark eyes. He leant forward and gently lifted Roy’s left hand to inspect the matching gold ring on his finger. “I still think they should be silver. Gold is a bit much.”

“Gold is perfect, Ed,” the older man answered, grinning widely. “Gold is everything. Gold is strength and life and love and perfection and you. You are my life, Edward Elric. I love you and... gold is you. I mean, look at your hair.”

Ed snorted, rolling his eyes at the predictably sappy lines. He settled down on the bed beside his husband – the thought made him grin wider – and rested his forehead on the warm shoulder. “I love you too, you fucking sap.” He flinched at a new thought and sat up straight, meeting the confused gaze with fear. “Winry is gonna cave my fucking head in when she realises I didn’t take your name.”

Roy laughed, shaking his head and gently pressing his lips to Ed’s. “You’re an Elric, I’m a Mustang. God help me, but we’re going to make it work that way. And besides,” he continued, a cruel glint in his eyes. “Edward Mustang just sounds wrong.”

“So does Roy Elric, you fucking asshole,” Ed snarled, pinching the bastard’s jaw and grinning again when he voiced a complaint. He settled comfortably again and let his hair trail over the bastard’s shoulder as he sighed against his pounding head. He laughed softly as he lifted his head and pressed their foreheads together, gripping Roy’s fingers in his. “You know, I don’t really give a fuck what she thinks. I fell in love with Roy Mustang and you couldn’t ever be anyone else.”

He saw the bastard’s eyes sparkle and he pressed his spare hand against the sharp jaw he’d grown familiar with. He could feel his pulse pounding beneath his fingers and smiled wider as he kissed him. No matter how hard things had been between them as subordinate and superior officer, or as new boyfriends, or at any point, this was the man he loved and nothing would change that.

As he pulled away, he realised something and sat back on his heels. “Can you imagine how Havoc must’ve reacted when he realised I was stealing you away from all the girls?”

Roy laughed, running his thumb over the gold metal on Ed’s finger. “Can you imagine how he must’ve reacted when he realised I really was the one to spread all those rumours about him?”

Ed gasped in mock surprise, widening his eyes and pressing both palms against his cheeks in exaggerated shock. “Really? You cruel man!” Roy laughed again and pushed Ed back into the sheets, nuzzling into his collar. Ed groaned again and the noise echoed painfully through his head as he weaved his fingers in the dark hair. “Hey, Roy?”

“Yes, Edward?”

“As much as I want to get started on this whole fucking honeymoon thing, I wasn’t joking about the hangover. Can we just sleep for a bit?”

Roy laughed and pressed his lips against the side of his neck, rolling over to lie beside him. He let Ed cling to his side and press his face into his neck. “I love you,” Roy whispered as he pressed a kiss to Ed’s forehead.

“I love you too, idiot, now let me sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> Married RoyEd is my kink, I love it. I’ve been considering writing a full multiple-chapter wedding fic, so let me know if that would be wanted!
> 
> Made me laugh to imagine Al angry and aggressive when it came to protecting Ed, so I just had to include that. Let me know what you thought of it!
> 
> Feedback feeds my soul and motivates me to write more, so let me know if you enjoyed this by leaving comments and kudos or ask for certain prompts. I hope you enjoyed!


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